been pondering Kelvin’s meme question – about blogs I would like to read if they were written.  Poppy’s dark brown Burmese and inter-faith musings would be an obvious possibility.  Ian Paisley and Martin Maguinness would be worth reading – they are both such morally ambiguous figures.  If you blog every day, the ambiguities sort of come to the surface.  So Tony Blair would also be a good candidate.  In the posthumous blogging department, I would go for Bishop Trevor Huddleston – who died in 1998.  For me, he embodies the tradition which links catholic spirituality with social justice.  He led the campaign in Britain to develop apartheid-consciousnessness.  His blog would have shown us, I expect, that greatness belongs in a special combination of things – keeping a moral and spiritual focus in the everyday while also managing to see the Gethsemane moment when it comes along.

Meanwhile, I’ve been down to the sea in ships again with the Mission to Seafarers in London – where I travelled to ground level this morning in Schindler’s Lift.  His blog would also have been worth reading.

mission-to-seafarers-london-607.doc

Another Diocesan Review meeting – in Crieff this time.  I remain surprised by the [large] number of people who turn up, seem genuinely interested and ask fairly searching questions.  The raising of expectations is, of course, something of a two-edged sword but surely a risk worth taking.  The opposite is, of course, a way of ensuring that nobody is ever disappointed.

Meanwhile, in the safari park, I have today narrowly missed two of the Flopsy Bunnies.  There were two woodpeckers on the Blogstead fence this morning.  And a pheasant strolled through the garden late this afternoon.  Alison has put lurid tape on the fence to alarm the deer – and Poppy is doing her best on the lion poo front.  After all, she is related.

Two powerful images from my Sunday.

I gathered up my crozier this morning from the corner of the church where I had parked it and discovered that it had acquired the most enormous cobweb right across the aperture.  What does this tell me?

We shared in Nicki’s Ordination to the Priesthood in St Andrew’s St Andrews this afternoon – a great moment for her and her family.  And I was also thinking of Carlton and Barry – both members of my parish who were ordained today.  We were never as good as we should have been at fostering vocation – so two in one day is very special.  But – to go back to Nicki’s Ordination – when we came to the sharing of the symbols of priesthood, I found myself positively assailed by a kaleidoscope of images of what ministry has meant to me. Maybe it was because this is the 31st anniversary of my ordination as a deacon.  Or maybe it was memories of people-ministry that I don’t get to do as I once did.  May it be as enriching for Nicki as it has been for me.

Weather today just dreadful.  But it’s impossible not to be aware of how extraordinary it is here at midsummer.  I drove home from Bridge of Allan on Thursday evening – still air with mist resting in the valleys.  I could have read the paper out on the patio at 11.45 pm.  And the special thing is the strange quality of the apparently endless twilight.  Unlike David Campbell, I have little knowledge of what happens in the early dawn.  But I was prowling around at 4 am this morning and it was fully light here.

The meeting in Bridge of Allan was great – 38 people turned up, representing a significant proportion of the total membership of the Scottish Episcopal Church.  It was really a very interesting meeting – particularly the exploration of the link and tension between spirituality and strategic planning.  I find myself constantly discouraging people from using the word ‘change’ – because that tends to invite people to man the barricades.  Much more it is about faith, hope, mood, trust – the things which detach us from the need to protect the past and enable us to trust the uncertain future.

But back at Blogstead, there are other more empirical  agendas.  Ian is insisting that I cycle with him over two days from Callender to Aviemore.  I think that a better knowledge of Scottish geography might suggest Aviemore to Callender since altitude is more important than the prevailing wind.  Anyway, I’m in training on Bamm Bamm’s mountain bike.  Which explains why I was wearing my Darcey Bussell e-z-y-fit black lycra cycling tights when +Bruce called in to discuss our tactics for the coming Ballintuim Mitre Croquet Tournament.  Apparently the secret is to manipulate the handicapping system so as to maximise the number of ‘bisques’ which one has.  And, of course, in 2008, the Tournament will be played as Bicycle Croquet or Fahrradkrocket.

I’ve had what they call a ‘catch-up’ day today.  The E Mail is reasonably up to date but the pile on the side of the desk isn’t so good.  And I’ve been trying to put together the Working Groups for the Diocesan Strategy.  There’s another meeting this evening in Bridge of Allan as part of the reception process.

Meanwhile, here at Blogstead Episcopi, we are tentatively beginning discussion about The Sign At The End Of the Lane.  It clearly must demonstrate a proper welcome and inclusiveness – the more liturgically-minded residents pondered, ‘Grace and Peace ..’  It must not be suburban and needs to have an eye to the animal and pet issues – Poppy and the deer.    We need a committee.  It could also organise the Christmas festivities.  Watch this space.

81,016 – number of people in prison in England and Wales on Monday night

64,530 – number of people in prison in June 1999

193,700 – number of abortions in England and Wales in 2006

22,000 – number of abortions in 1968

No head for maths.  I am driving in Bamm Bamm’s Mini Cooper from Londonderry/Derry/Stroke City etc., etc. towards Belfast.  Ulsterbus’s posh new coaches are leaving Belfast about every 15 minutes and coming towards us.

Compare my situation to that of a person standing in the rain on the top of the Glenshane Pass.

Do the buses seem closer together because I am driving towards them?  Do I see more buses than the person standing still?  Compared to this, the doctrine of the Trinity seems child’s play.

Alison and I roared up to the little church in Dunfanaghy – the local for Blogstead Na Mara – this morning in Bamm Bamm’s Mini Cooper.  The bell was still giving that distinctive sort of tinny sound which is so characteristic of small Church of Ireland Churches and heralds Matins from the proper Prayer Book and Churchwardens with big rough hands giving out the hymn books in the porch.

The Service was conducted by Doug the Lay Reader and, as we struggled with the Urbs Fortitudinis, I remembered his other role as Starter at the Golf Club.  When our two boys were Junior Members, he used to give them the ‘gruff but kind’ treatment when they broke the rules like ‘NOT STARTING YOUR ROUND AT THE FIRST TEE’

 Clergy of course find worship in the pew a bit difficult.  But there was a magic moment which illuminated the whole service for me.  While Doug was reading to us about ‘de armies of de Ammonites’, I watched the organist go over to her severely disabled child in her wheel chair.  She wiped his mouth and gave her a wonderful smile – and she smiled in return.  It was a ‘murmur of angels’ wings moment’.  Forget the Diocesan Strategy – that’s what it is about.

And finally, today’s Independent on Sunday has an article suggesting that Arthur Ransome was a Bolshevik spy.  Is nothing sacred?

 

 

Remarkable place.

Sign close to Bamm Bamm’s apartment says, ‘Stop the new cemetery.  Don’t take it lying down.’

And, a little further along, Hillhall Presbyterian Church’s Wayside Pulpit says, ‘Always use sunblock.  Don’t block the Son’   It’s the theological sophistication of it that gets you.